I gave you my bullets and you gave me your love
by BecSquared
Summary: A simple tale about the land of Amestris if Mustang was Furher. It reveals what could have been and how even a forbidden love can be forged in the shackles of military leadership.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The country of Amestries was once a violent country. It's history of bloodshed surpasses any other. The streets are paved with blood that can no longer be seen by the naked eye. However, with the fall of King Bradley, a new leader has taken charge. He has seen to it that the wars are ended, the streets cleaned of anger and the people protected from tyranny. The people of the world breath a sigh of relief. The anger and bloodthirsty country is, finally, being tamed. The man running the country is a tall, handsome fellow. Short black hair hung slightly in his determined, black eyes. His mouth is almost always in a smirk as he attends to the needs of his people. He had broad shoulders and large, strong hands. A well developed body hides beneath the garb of the Fuhrer, slightly marred by small scars from his days in combat. Standing always to his right in a military uniform was a beautiful woman. Her brown eyes surveyed every face, searching for any kind of hidden ill intent toward her commanding officer. A pistol hung by her side at all times, ammunition hidden all along her person in case one bullet wasn't enough. Long blonde hair was flipped up in the back of her head and secured there by a brown hair clip. She was stronger than she appeared and very well endowed. She wore a long skirt, not following the new, female dress code.

Fuhrer President Roy Mustang and his trusted General Riza Hawkeye stood now at the top of the chain. Havoc, Fury and all of Mustang's other subordinates had been moved up in station and stayed close to him. Mustang knows how important it is to have trusted allies, even in a country that seems peaceful. Fury handles all communications. Havoc handles emissaries with Rebecca close at his side. They had been happily married for several months now. Falman was in control of Mustang's intelligence network, much to his delight. Breda took charge of security but he had been given his own subordinate to handle training security dogs. Overall, Mustang ruled the country as its head but had many others beneath him that helped him from making the wrong decisions, including General Olivia Armstrong and General Gruman. Scar had even become an ally to the country when Mustang had promised to find a way to give the Ishbalan's back their land. So far, everything had been going well. A peace treaty had finally been drawn up between Amestries and Drachma. It was, finally, a time of peace. Mustang relaxed in his huge office, Riza standing close to him, sifting through his paperwork.

"Riza, you don't need to do that," he told her, "I can have a small break from all that work."

"You've been on that break for almost an hour now, sir," Hawkeye replied calmly as she pulled out a stack of work. "It seems some of Bradley's supporters are trying to start uprisings again." Mustang held out his hand for the documents which Hawkeye passed to him. His eyes skimmed down the report, a frown slowly appearing on his face. With a dark sigh, he tossed the documents aside.

"This is the third time this week they've tried to stir up the Ishbalans."

"Should we send some more troops down there, sir?"

"No. Scar should be able to handle things on his own."

"Yes. sir." They said nothing for some time. Mustang finally stood and walked toward the door. Hawkeye followed behind, checking to see that her gun was properly in place. They wandered down the hall, checking to make sure everything was going smoothly. Havoc saw him in the hall, a cigarette stuck in his mouth with a ring of smoke curling around his head. His blonde hair was the same, sticking out with casual indifference but a little longer. His face sported some stubble on his chin. Holding his hand was Rebecca, a deliriously happy smile on her face. The miniskirt she was wearing fit her well, much to Havoc distinct delight. Havoc gave Mustang a casual salute, a grin on his face. Rebecca snapped a crisp one which Mustang waved away. He was grinning as he and Havoc gripped each other's hands.

"Good to see you, Fuhrer," Havoc said, falling in step behind Mustang.

"I see you keep yourself busy," Mustang smirked at his friend. Havoc squeezed Rebecca;s hand for a second, a large and proud grin on his face. Hawkeye allowed herself a smile. Rebecca was chattering non-stop to her about her daily life.

"We're doing quite well," Havoc told Mustang, glowing with pride. Mustang gave his friend a skeptical look. Havoc pulled his wife into his arms, holding her tight. Rebecca smiled happily.

"Rebecca is expecting!" Havoc said, the excitement and anxiety clear in his voice and on his face. Mustang laughed and clapped his friend on the back. Rebecca beamed, resting a hand on her stomach. Hawkeye smiled and hugged Rebecca for only one moment before releasing her.

"Congratulations," Mustang laughed, his face a light with joy and merriment. Havoc grinned with pride. That night, after all the work was done, Havoc and Rebecca hosted a party for their new child on the way. There was much to drink and more to eat. Mustang drank heavily with Havoc, celebrating as loud as he could. Hawkeye sighed when the party finally wound down. Mustang hadn't drunk completely out of his senses but Hawkeye still insisted on driving him home. He sat in silence in the back seat as Hawkeye maneuvered easily down the road. She pulled onto the side of the road, stopping the car outside his house. It was a small home, not one you would expect the leader of a country to live in. A cream-colored exterior gave it a very homey look, with small windows. Hawkeye got out of the car and opened the car door for Mustang, who stumbled out. With Hawkeye's guidance, he made it inside. The living room was bare of any pictures and sported very little furniture. The kitchen was a mess, indicating that only a man lived here. Pots, pans and plates were stacked into the sink and the counter looked like it had just been wiped once. Hawkeye helped her commanding officer into his bedroom and dropped him on his bed. She saluted him.

"I'll be leaving then, sir."

"Riza...would you stay? For only a moment?" Riza frowned, finding this to be a very strange thing for him to say. Sighing, she nodded and sat next to him. Mustang smirked but it was very close to an actual smile. Hawkeye smiled back and looked at one of the walls. Her own weariness was finally catching up to her. She yawned, covering her mouth with her hand. She could hear Mustang slip into sleep behind her, his breathing becoming slower. She turned slightly, looking at his face. His hair had fallen in front of his eyes, being blown a little with each breath. Hawkeye's fingers itched to move it away but she decided against it. She stood slowly so as not to wake him. She paused, thinking for a moment, that it would be easier if she just went to sleep here. Shaking to clear her head, Hawkeye knew that was not proper nor appropriate. Silent, she left Mustang in his home and drove to her own apartment. When she finally collapsed on the bed with Black Hayate curling up beside her, she thought of him for a fleeting moment before she passed into sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Riza stood behind Mustang as he listened to the council of his advisers. Most of the council members were alchemists, though none of them bore the title "State" any more. Even though the State Alchemists did still exist, they were not classified as such. Many were reluctant to give up the title but Mustang had stated that they were allowed to keep the titles they had been given, such as the Silver Alchemist, if they desired. He had also made it clear that the sole purpose of any alchemist was to aid the people. When it was decided, many of the alchemists devoted their time to becoming masters while still placing their loyalty to Mustang.

Then came the issue of Olivia Armstrong. She was an intimidating woman and many were wary of her. With good reason. Everyone knew her family and its reputation. Olivia wore her fur-lined coat regardless of the weather, knowing full well what the effect of it was. She also wore the men's pants, completely ignoring many unhappy glances. She was not a woman to trifle with and had never had a very high opinion of Mustang. When he had come to her with the promotion and the offer of a place on his council, her initial reaction was icy refusal. Olivia eventually agreed to be at Mustang's right but only because she was still in complete control of Fort Briggs. Very rarely was she in Central and only then, she had to be ordered to appear.

Gruman had not been as hard to win over. He had appreciated Mustang, even though he was a rival for the Fuhrer's place. Both men had a profound respect for each other. Gruman had agreed almost immediately when Mustang had proposed he join the council. The older man was more than happy to lend the young man his knowledge, telling him that it would be almost like running the country himself. He still maintained his control over training the new military snipers but devoted most of his time to aiding Mustang run a peaceful country.

Hawkeye gave her head a slight shake. It surprised her that she had dwelled on the past. She supposed it was reasonable, considering Mustang had only been in control for a few years. Mustang looked attentive to the words and complaints surrounding him but Hawkeye could see the hint of dullness in his eyes. To her, it was obvious he wasn't paying attention. She suppressed the urge to sigh and simply stood, saying nothing. Her job was to watch his back. That was all.

"This treaty will one day lead us to trouble!" One of the men snapped, his eyes angry, "The Drachman's are not going to hold to it for to long."

"They care about their honor as much as we do," a woman retorted, "They wouldn't dare to break the treaty so long as there is a chance we do it first!"

"The Drachman's are dogs!"

"They're still human!"

"Enough." Mustang silenced the entire room. Many of the council members glowered at each other but held their tongues. Mustang folded his hands and looked at the assembled leaders. A tense silence filled the room as they waited for Mustang to speak again.

"General Olivia. General Gruman." Gruman smiled, leaning back in his chair.

"Let us not act rashly. Perhaps, Fuhrer, it would be best to hold to the treaty. We know that, so far, they have not decided to come against us."

"Their threat is always present," Olivia replied, her icy blue eyes glaring at the old general. Her tone, however, was not challenging.

"True, Olivia," Gruman agreed, "However, they see us as a threat as well. It would be best, I think, to watch and see what happens." Olivia said nothing as she nodded. They all knew that Briggs was on alert. Even the slightest aggressive mood from the Drachmans would be reported. Hawkeye remained silent, her eyes sweeping over faces. Many of the officials were not happy. It was clear many of the alchemists were itching to go to war. They were tired of stand still.

"Briggs is still open with trade?" Mustang directed this question to Olivia. She nodded curtly, the blonde bangs obscuring her right eye swaying a little.

"We refuse to relax our policies," she said bluntly. "The Drachmans know I do not trust them." Mustang sighed. Even if he was Fuhrer, it would be painful to try to budge the Ice General. The meeting was disbanded after more pointless arguing and Mustang watched as everyone departed. Gruman stayed behind, still leaning back in his chair.

"They grow restless," he told the Fuhrer. Mustang sighed, standing. Hawkeye watched his face very carefully. She could see the weariness, see the weight he bore and knew there was little she could do to help. Mustang faced his long time friend and teacher.

"What do you advise?"

"Peace time can both be a blessing and a bane. There is no war but the people use to war grow restless. They have little else to do."

"You want me to start a war?" Mustang sounded very doubtful. Gruman laughed.

"Of course not! We have been able to salvage relations between countries that we have been at odds with for centuries. The Isbalans are once again living among us and Drachma, for the time, has been sated. We do not have the opportunity to let our guard down." Gruman gave Mustang a level gaze. They said nothing for a time. Mustang sighed with a smirk and waved. Gruman laughed and gathered his hat before leaving. Hawkeye waited for Mustang to gather himself before motioning for her to follow him. As they walked down the halls, the silence stretched between them. Hawkeye looked at him with a small frown. As they entered his office, Olivia was waiting for him. Her steel blue eyes scowled at him, though he could only see one. Her arms were folded over her ample bosom. Mustang nodded to her, not really expecting her to salute.

"Mustang, I will be returning to Briggs," the general quipped. Mustang gave her a tired nod. Olivia's scowl deepened. Mustang looked at her with a frown of his own. The tension was palpable in the room. Hawkeye's eyes flicked from one to the other. Without a word, Olivia spun around and left. Mustang stood for sometime before collapsing in his chair. Hawkeye took her usual position behind him. Mustang flipped through more reports. The silence stretched on between them.

"Hawkeye, look at this for a moment." Mustang passed her a few documents. Without hesitation, she took them and examined them. They were reports of uprisings but they were minor. She shook her head, noting the barely memorable place for only a fraction of a second.

"I don't understand, sir. They are similar to the other reports we've been seeing for the past few years."

"These are more organized than the others," Mustang pointed out. Hawkeye frowned, looking more closely at was written.

"It says that the military police were able to quell it before it got underway."

"Only barely. Most of the members were older Isbalan warriors that have yet to completely relinquish their grudges."

"Are you suggesting that someone is riling them back into action?"

"It seems that way." Mustang frowned, looking at her over his folded hands. Hawkeye said nothing, her eyes not leaving the papers. Her eyes searched for the smallest detail but nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Sighing, she put the papers back on his desk.

"What do you think, sir? Should it be given official notice?" Mustang shook his head. Hawkeye frowned but did not question his decision. She nodded once and returned to her position. As she watched her commanding officer muck though a mountain of paperwork, she considered suggesting she call his secretary to help him. After a moment's consideration, she pushed the idea away. Mustang had a very large amount of pride. Most likely, he would want to get the work done on his own. Hawkeye allowed herself a small but fleeting smile. On the outside, he appeared to be a very changed man. In some sense, he was. Shouldering the burden of a very blood-filled country was an immensely stressful task. To someone who has known him for a very long time, it was very easy to spot the slight downward slant to his shoulders and the weariness in his eyes. The door to his office suddenly began to creak open. Mustang looked up as Hawkeye went on complete alert. Fury entered, his black eyes focused on a report of recent communications. He stopped at Mustang's desk and saluted him. Mustang returned it.

"First Lieutenant Fury, what's the report look like today. You don't normally hand-deliver me reports." An old gleam came to Mustang's eye as he smirked, "Unless you wish to be relinquished from your position." Fury laughed, catching the slight change in his tone. Hawkeye smiled.

"I'm quite happy where I am, Fuhrer." The smile faded from his face as he passed his reports to Mustang, "These reports, sir...they seem off." Mustang frowned, looking them over. His frown deepened.

"Are you sure this was the right location?"

"Yes, sir." Mustang rose abruptly. Fury backed away, casting a worried glance to Hawkeye. She was immediately at Mustang's side.

"Sir?" The concern was clear in her tone. Mustang said nothing. He didn't move as he stared at the report. Hawkeye eased the papers away from him. Her eyes narrowed slightly. She looked up at Fury with a slight frown.

"You are certain these are correct?"

"Yes, ma'am," Fury replied nervously. "I was the one who was overseeing them. Fuhrer Mustang is the only one who trusts me with his personal line." Hawkeye looked at Mustang who was slowly sitting back down. By the look on his face, she could tell something was off. She had a very strong feeling that it was something very important that had gone wrong.


End file.
